


Arnold's Diner

by damndanvers



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Chef AU, F/F, Sanvers - Freeform, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2019-01-17 12:03:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12365364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/damndanvers/pseuds/damndanvers
Summary: Alex Danvers is a chef. Maggie Sawyer is a chef. A chance meeting in a diner leads to a whole lotta food for thought. AKA the slow burn chef fic that nobody asked for but I needed to write to deal with the shitstorm heading our way.





	1. Chapter 1

“DANVERS! I need those two medium-rare’s for table 16 stat.” 

“Yes Chef!”

It’s a Tuesday evening in Downtown National City. September. The air outside is almost warm. Alex Danvers is almost ready to burst through the kitchen door and into the middle of The Bowery to yell at everyone who complained about their gravy being ‘almost cold’. She doesn’t. Instead, she wipes a layer of sweat from her forehead with her arm and plates up the last few dishes of the evening. 

“Order up, Chef.”

She’s been working at The Bowery for almost two years now. It’s a fancy little place, tucked down a cosy side street somewhere between CatCo and Alex’s apartment. They serve expensive wine. Their steak is, to quote Alex’s Mom, ‘the best thing money can buy in National City’. Alex thinks she’s biased. She’s not. The Bowery is in the running to add another star to their name next month. It’s kind of a big deal. It’s kind of the biggest deal of Alex’s career so far. 

Alex loves her job. She wouldn’t have it any other way. Sometimes though, she needs to sit down and shut out all the steam and alarms and shouting and loud customers for a few minutes. The only quiet place in The Bowery is the walk in freezer, and so, Alex keeps her head down and gets on with it.

Kara tells her she’s obsessed with work. Tells her to take a night off to make some food - for herself. Tells her to fall asleep on the sofa to a Friends re-run for once.

Maybe Kara was right, Alex thinks, as she dusts flour off of her arm and realises that she hasn’t sat down since 4pm. It’s now 1.47am. 

————————— 

Six blocks away, just two minutes from Kara’s apartment, is Le Bernardin, National City’s most popular up and coming seafood restaurant. Although it’s got the same star rating as The Bowery, it’s a little different. It’s spacious and modern, looking onto a busy street. They serve fancy salmon and muscles and weird fish that people pretend they like to look fancy. It’s where Chef Maggie Sawyer is currently trying, and failing, to ram a bag of ice cubes back into the bottom drawer of a freezer. 

“For fucks sake.” she mumbles under her breath, finally slamming the door shut. 

“Don’t look at me like that, Angelo. I’ve been trying to get those god damn little shits into the freezer for the best part of 15 minutes.” 

It’s been a busy evening at Le Bernardin, as usual. Maggie had been prepared for the 25 tables in the reservation book, but then about 300 people (at least, that’s what it felt like) decided to waltz through the front door with no word of warning and Maggie swore if she had to cook another scallop she would hand in her notice. 

Maggie loves her job. She loves cooking and watching a whole room of paying customers enjoy a recipe she’d scribbled down in her living room at 5am while a Fleetwood Mac vinyl quietly whirred in the background. But, god, she was drained. Tired. All she wanted was a huge greasy burger and her bed. 

“I’m out for the night, guys. See you tomorrow afternoon. Make sure someone’s here for the delivery truck. Think it’s gonna be some more fish, if I’m honest. Sorry.” 

With that, Maggie lets her long, brown hair down, slips on a hooded leather jacket and kicks open the back door with a grunt.

—————————

“I’ll have one cheeseburger, extra cheese,” Alex emphasises, “and a black coffee with milk on the side.”

Arnold’s Diner is one of National City’s two 24 hour diners, and it happens to be a pretty quick walk away from The Bowery. Alex doesn’t like to call herself a regular, but she finds herself slumped into a booth way too frequently past midnight, nursing a dark coffee and some sort of burger that Alex wouldn’t give the time of day before a shift at work. It’s now 2.03am. She’s a regular.

The door creaks open, and in stumbles another woman. She’s petite, with long brown hair that has a slight wave to it. She’s wearing a hooded leather jacket and…checkered black and white baggy trousers. 

“Evening, or I guess I should say good morning now, right?” she says. “I’ll have a cheeseburger and a black coffee with no milk. Oh, extra cheese on the burger please.”

Alex peeks her head out of the booth. It’s not often she shares Arnold’s with many people at this time. She sees the back of the woman, facing the counter in her black and white checkered trousers, taking a 20 dollar bill from her front pocket. Alex recognises her vaguely, although she can’t quite place it. 

“Chef.” the woman offers, turning round to face Alex, who was now essentially staring.

“Hmm?!” Alex mumbles, a little caught off guard.

“The trousers? I’m a chef. Saw you looking, thought I’d explain my odd fashion choices.” she smiles warmly, a dimple at either side of her mouth appearing. 

“Oh! Right! Yeah, yes. Sorry.” Alex replies, as the woman turns to collect her change and steaming coffee from the counter.

“I’m a chef too!” Alex splutters out, kicking herself mentally for being a little awkward.

“You are? Ah, I just finished my shift. Spent the last 15 minutes fighting with a freezer. I definitely did not graduate with a cooking degree for nothing.” she smiles, her dimples reappearing. Alex swallows hard.

“Can I?” the brunette motions towards the red seat opposite Alex.

“It’s all yours. I’m Alex. Alex Danvers.” 

“Maggie. Maggie Sawyer.” Maggie imitates Alex’s tone, setting herself down opposite Alex and taking a sip from her steaming coffee.  


“So where’d you work? You said you’re a chef?” Alex offers. She didn’t usually entertain strangers, well, at all, but it was late and Maggie was supposedly a chef and she’d be lying to herself if she said she didn’t need someone similar to talk to for a little while. Someone who understood how annoying it was to be told their gravy was cold.

“Yeah, I’m at Le Bernardin. It’s a few bloc-”

“I know the place,” Alex interrupts, a little harshly “we’re up against you guys for another star next month. The Bowery.”

“You are indeed. Good luck, Danvers. You and your cutesy steaks are gonna need it.” Maggie replies, her tone a little humorous but dead serious.

“Two cheeseburgers, extra cheese. Don’t fight over which is which, ladies. I can assure you the burger to cheese ratio is exactly the same.” Arnold laughs, placing the two plates down. Arnold and his wife Edna had owned the diner for the best part of 35 years now. Alex swore he sometimes kept the diner open all hours for her. He was pretty much family. She still refused to call herself a regular, mind you. 

“You and your little muscles might wanna watch it too, Maggie.” Alex quipped back, without realising what she’d said.

Maggie grinned. Big. Her right eyebrow raised.

“What?”

“I’ll have you know, my muscles are not little. Quite the opposite, if we’re being honest.” 

Alex blushed. Shifted in her seat. Cleared her throat a little too obviously. 

“For real though, your little wine and steak joint is going down. You’ve never tasted real food until you’ve eaten at my restaurant. I’d be happy to enlighten you if you ever dare to drop by.” Maggie smirked. She wasn’t kidding though. 

Alex bit into her burger. Too much cheese.

—————————-

It’s almost 3am when Alex slides the key into her apartment door. She sets it down on her kitchen island and slumps onto the sofa with her head in her hands and lets out a yawn. Wonders why she’d never bumped into Maggie at the diner before. Wonders if she’ll see her again. Wonders if she’ll ever get a proper 8 hours of sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please note: it's late and i haven't proofread. I'll sort it tomorrow.

It’s been exactly seven days since Alex shared a booth with Maggie Sawyer, two cups of strong coffee and overly cheesy cheeseburgers. This Tuesday is different to last Tuesday. It’s cold and wet outside. Alex watches the droplets of rain race down the window next to her booth. She’s sitting in her usual spot, flicking through an almost empty lined notepad, chewing on the tip of a CatCo pen. For 4.00pm, Arnold’s Diner is unusually busy. The diner, ‘Arnie’s’ as Alex names it, is exactly how you’d imagine a classic American diner to look. It’s lined with red leather sofa booths and grubby tables. A silver counter runs along the back wall with several leather bar stools beside it. A whirring ceiling fan spins endlessly. If you listen closely, you can hear an old beat up radio quietly playing everything from Nina Simone to Fleetwood Mac. It’s always warm and always smells like coffee. It’s kind of like a safe haven for Alex, away from the bustle of National City and the frying pans of The Bowery. 

Eliza, Alex’s Mom, had told Alex she was destined for the kitchen ever since her grandparents gifted some plastic food and a wooden kitchen set for her 5th birthday. She wasn’t an introvert, as such, but finding the time to socialise and make lasting friendships was not a priority when The Bowery started food prep at 1.30pm and turned the last light out at 1am most evenings. God, sometimes finding the time to even eat or catch up with Kara was a challenge. It’s not an ideal scenario, but she knew what was on her…plate…when she signed up for this. 

On this particular Tuesday, however, Chef Scott gave Alex orders to leave the restaurant. Not because she fucked up, of course. Alex was anything but a fuck up in the kitchen. Sure, she’s a sous-chef, but she’s a fantastic sous-chef at that. She can make sauces and weird combinations of vegetables seem not weird. She’s maybe one of the best up and coming chefs in National City, Chef Scott says. “You’re our secret right now, Danvers, but not for long.” In fact, she’s been sent away to come up with the menu that will decide if The Bowery is awarded another star next month. Okay, now this is the biggest deal of Alex’s career so far. 

She’s in the middle of debating whether or not the steak should have onion gravy as a side during the main course when Kara strides in to Arnie’s, a magazine rolled under one of her arms and a shopping bag in the other. They’d agreed to meet for a coffee and a short chat to calm Alex down for a while and discuss Kara’s upcoming birthday plans. The cash registers pings.

“Do you like onion gravy?” Alex sighs, looking up at Kara’s dishevelled blonde hair.

“For the record, 1. I got caught in the rain with no hood, and 2. who likes onion gravy?” Kara sits down opposite Alex, laying the magazine onto the table and setting her shopping bag down. 

“This is so much pressure, Kara. It’s got the potential to be amazing and the potential to destroy my career.” she grunts, eyes meeting Kara’s. “How was work?”

“Ta-da! Say hello to the latest edition of CatCo magazine, edited by yours truly. Well, guest edited. James wanted to give me shot this month.” she’s beaming.

Kara’s been working at CatCo magazine since she finished college. She started as an intern and slowly worked her way up to the top. It’s a lot like Alex’s own story, actually: graduating from National City’s top cooking school and then spending four years working in a top National City hotel making starters and deserts until she found an offer at The Bowery that she couldn’t turn down. She’s 28 now. Almost 11 of those years have been dedicated to cutting onions and making soufflés and scribbling down supply orders. 

Alex takes the magazine from Kara, smiling, flicking through the glossy pages. It’s got that freshly printed smell that Alex loves so much she’s considered sourcing a candle that smells just like it. She hasn’t had any luck so far.

“So I was thinking we could get drinks somewhere first and have a nice quiet meal somewhere afterwards. God, don’t I sound boring? I mean I know I’m only turnin- what?” Kara stops, suddenly confused by Alex’s expression.

“What’s this?!” Alex points to an article almost halfway into the magazine. It’s a big piece, almost like a feature, and there’s none other than dimpled Chef Maggie Sawyer printed on the left side of the page. Alex is caught off guard a little. Sure, Maggie had crossed her mind over the last few days in passing but she was staring right back at her now, in a puffy chef hat, holding a menu and grinning.

“Ah, that. I was going to mention it today. Since the whole star deal is coming up next month, we’re running a feature on all of the nominated restaurants. This is the first one. It’s Le B-”

“Le Bernardin. I got it. I met her here last week, actually.” Alex points to the image of Chef Maggie.

“I promise I was gonna tell you about the segment, Alex, but you’re always so busy. I feel like I never see you anymore. So busy.” Kara offers. “Did you…did you see what she said?”

Alex’s eyes dart to the fairly huge interview. She focuses on a chunk of text in bold and starts to read aloud. 

“We’ve been working towards this star for what feels like years now. The head chef and I have been working on an incredible set menu to ensure we impress the board. It’s full of stuff we’ve never really tackled before.” Alex looks up at Kara, raises an eyebrow. 

“Keep going.”

“There’s a few other National City establishments we’ve got our eye on to beat. Most specifically The Bowery. They’ve been our main competitors for a while now, having the same star rating and all.” Alex swallows. Continues. “We’ll do whatever it takes to gain what’s rightfully ours, taking down whatever competition we have.”

“We had to print that,” Kara justifies. “legally, I didn’t have a say. I promise I would’ve taken it out. Was she nice when you guys met?” 

Alex is visibly bothered. Her cheeks have done that red thing they do when she gets angry and bothered. She’s started scribbling circles in her notepad, a little hard. 

“I mean, I guess. We didn’t chat for long. I-”

What a son of a bitch, Alex thought, playing it off as banter when she knew what game she was playing.

She studied the picture of Maggie again.

“I can’t believe she said that in National City’s most read publication. I mean, I know it’s dog eat dog in our industry but, fuck, Kara. We need this. I need this. Any bad press can impact our chance. I know it’s nothing, but-” Alex shouted, a little too loudly. A few heads turned. She sank lower into her seat. 

“Hey. Chill out. They’ve got nothing on you and your steaks. I mean, I’ve never been, actually, but I know it.” Kara smiles. “Hey, why don’t we head there for my birthday? See what you’re up against? Get some nice salmon and figure out how you’re gonna kick their ass.” 

Alex sips her coffee. It’s lukewarm at best. Shakes her head at both the current state of coffee and Kara’s suggestion.

“You get that I don’t want to give the enemy anymore business right? No. It’s not up for debate.” 

“Come on. It’s my birthday. I’ve always wanted to try scallops. We can see how gross they are. It’s so close to my house…we can share a bottle of wine and just walk!” Kara offers again. Taxi’s in National City were overly expensive. It was a good point.

Alex lets out a sigh. She hardly sees Kara these days, what with the pressure of work right now. She runs a hand through her chin-length auburn hear and tucks a few strands behind her ear.

“You really want scallops? Kara, I’m not entertaining competition. You know I don’t really eat out often, especially not at places that want to destroy my reputation.” Alex downed the last of her coffee. It was still raining outside, the pitter patter of the drops making a tiny sound against the window.  


“Quit the dramatics, Alex!” Kara practically laughs. “It wasn’t that harsh. She’s just saying what she’s gotta say. You’d be the same. Chefs are a whole other league of insane.”

“You’re paying.”

————————- 

Thursday nights at Le Bernardin were always busiest. Maggie couldn’t work out why.

“Babe, I'm sorry. I don’t know what time I’ll be home. You know what Thursday’s are like.” Chef Sawyer is attempting to balance a phone against her ear whilst removing the skin from a salmon. She’s had better attempts, if she’s being honest.

“Okay, bye. Love you too.” 

Maggie peeks through the window in the kitchen door. It’s already busy and it’s barely passed seven thirty. She sighs and rolls up her sleeves.

“Right folks, we’ve got a big night ahead of us. You’ve seen the book, it’s busy.” Head Chef McConnell announces. 

It’s only when Kara and Alex walk through the front door that Alex remembers Maggie’s proposition last Tuesday. 

“You’ve never tasted real food until you’ve eaten at my restaurant. I’d be happy to enlighten you if you ever dare to drop by.”

God, she’d wish for the world to swallow her up whole if Maggie ever saw her in Le Bernardin. They’d only met briefly but after the interview, Alex was bitter. 

“I can’t believe you made me show face here, Kara.” She attempted to joke but it left her mouth a little more angrily than imagined. 

They got seated at a table for two at the window, overlooking Cordova Street. The weather hadn’t gotten any better since Tuesday. It was incredibly clear to Alex why Maggie had been such a smartass while talking about the restaurant. It was nice. It was really fucking nice. And big. And well lit and covered in nice artwork.

“Red wine, please. The biggest glass you’ve got.” Alex smiled to the waiter. 

“I’ll have the same but white. Just the house wine.” Kara chimed in. 

Alex ordered salmon. Kara ordered tuna.

————————-

“Can I get another haddock over here ASAP? Like now.” Maggie shouted.

The kitchen was in full swing. 

“What’s it looking like out there, Sawyer? We getting to rest anytime soon?” McConnell shouted back. “Haddock’s just coming.”

Maggie wiped a layer of sweat from her forehead before peering through the window. God, it was hot. And, it was also still ridiculously busy. There were several large groups still eating and way too many couples placed around for Maggie to even count.

“We’ve still got a shit load o-” she started, then stopped. Then smirked. Alex fucking Danvers. Tucked away next to the window with a blonde woman. 

“It’s busy. Get me that haddock now. And find out what table 18 ordered.” she grinned, smug. I knew she couldn’t stay away from the competition for long.

———————

“You’ve got to come round to mine sometime this weekend. The last two Greys episodes are waiting for you.” 

Alex and Kara are waiting on their main courses now. It’s good. Really good. Alex would never say that out loud, obviously. She’s even got a little trouble admitting it to herself.

“This one’s a special, from the chef.” the waiter appears, placing a plate in front of Alex, with a silver lid. 

Fuck.

“Let me know.” a loud voice bellows through the restaurant as the kitchen door swings open. It’s a man. A familiar man. It’s Chef Scott. Fuck. It’s Maggie and HER head chef. Fuck.

“I’ll have another large red wine.”


	3. Chapter 3

Alex furrows her eyebrows as the waiter takes her wine order and leaves without removing the fancy silver lid from her plate. The confusion passes in a second, however, when she realises that of course the ‘chef’ had told him to leave it on. The particular chef in question: Maggie Sawyer.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” 

There’s a tiny piece of salmon on the plate. 

“Damn, portion control has some work to do.” Kara smirks, taking a glance at the plate. Alex is still shaking her head.

Sure, there’s a tiny fillet of salmon in the middle of the plate, but there’s also a fairly large variety of broccoli and asparagus shaped into four separate stars. Four stars. 

“I can’t believe this. Actually, I can. I TOLD you this wasn’t your smartest idea.” Alex groans. Signals at the nearest waiter. 

“Can you let the kitchen know that this isn’t what I ordered. And no, I don’t want a replacement. We’ll take the cheque. Thanks.” 

Kara looks up at Alex, her mouth stuffed full of courgette and tries, (and fails), to mumble. “I’m not finished yet!”

The waiter stands confused for a second, until Alex promptly sends him off with another abrupt “Thank you.”

“Kara, you’re done. We’ll drop in past Arnie’s on the way home and grab a burger. Up! Let’s go!” 

Kara’s almost finished picking up her things and is in the middle of patting down a crease on the front of her dress when-

“Is there a problem here ladies?”

Alex squeezes her eyes shut and takes a breath so deep that she could’ve inhaled every last drop of air left in the fucking restaurant. She doesn’t even need to look any further than the black and white checkered trousers to know who their unwelcome visitor is. 

Alex swallows hard, sinks her teeth into her bottom lip so hard that she almost draws blood and finally tilts her head up to look Chef Maggie directly in the eyes. 

“We were just leaving.” Her tone is harsh. Sure, maybe Alex was taking the whole thing a little too seriously, but Maggie called her restaurant out in the media, so as far as Alex was concerned, this might as well have been the beginning of World War III.

“You’re leaving? Now?! Correct me if I’m wrong, Alex, but you haven’t paid the bill yet and it looked to me like your dinner date was thoroughly enjoying my food.” Maggie’s dimples: out in full force.

Le Bernardin is still fairly busy. There’s a quiet piano track playing through the speakers. A couple of heads begin to turn in the direction of Alex and Kara’s table. Maggie’s hands are resting on her waist.

Maggie is a little confused at Alex’s deadpan, genuine anger. Okay, the four star thing was maybe a bit of a dick move, but it was just a bit of playful banter, right? It’s asparagus. Actually, it’s expensive asparagus. 

“I’m Kara! Kara Danvers. Alex’s sister. I edited that feature you guys had in our magazine this month. CatCo.” 

Oh.

Oh shit.

She’d seen it already.

“Ah! Yeah, yes. CatCo. Thanks for that whole thing. I owe you guys. ” Maggie feels Alex’s eyes on her.

“You have a way with words.” Alex mutters, looking down at the white tablecloth and nothing else.

“I assume you had a sneak preview, it’s not released until tomorrow, right?” Maggie’s grinning a little now, trying to hide it. She’d already cracked the competition. 

“That’s right.” Kara nods.

There’s an awkward silence for a few seconds which Alex quickly puts an end to by getting out of her seat and picking her purse up from the floor.

“Thanks for your wonderful hospitality, Chef Sawyer.” She pulls the front door open, the whole restaurant pretending not to look but definitely failing.

“Why are you here, Alex?”

“One star, if I’m being generous.”

——————————

Alex and Kara pick up cheeseburgers from Arnold’s and a big bottle of whiskey from the corner store on the way back to Alex’s apartment. It’s finally stopped raining. Alex finally remembers more of the evening at Le Bernardin. Everything was a blur. 

“But forgetting all the Maggie shit, what the hell was MY head chef doing in the the kitchen with her?” Alex runs her hand through her damp hair.

"Are you sure it was even him? You were on your second glass of wine."

"Shut up, Kara. I know my boss when I see him." Alex playfully punches Kara's shoulder.

“Look, Alex. You barely know her. In fact, you don’t know her at all. You’re gonna do great and you’re gonna get those four stars. How’s that menu coming along?” She’s obviously trying to change the conversation, and Alex goes along with it because she’s tired of the Maggie shit for now. She’s so tired. The restaurant hours were taking their toll.

“It’s fine. I want to step out of my comfort zone; of our comfort zone as a restaurant, but I also wanna make sure it’s something manageable and that we’re used to, so I’m stuck in a rut. Hmm. I don’t know. I’ll figure it out.” 

“You always do, Alex. Did you get rid of the onion gravy?”

“No.”

—————————— 

It’s a little past 2am and Kara is out cold on the couch. Alex takes a swig of whiskey from the bottle, scrunches her face up a little because, fuck, that was strong and puts the burger wrappers in the bin. The bin slams a little too loud and Kara stirs, but she doesn't wake.

Alex settles into bed in a red sweatshirt and black shorts. She’s never been a deep sleeper, and it’s especially difficult to fall asleep when the pitter patter of rain is hitting against the windows and Kara’s snoring is obnoxiously loud.

2:05am. 

Alex reaches for her iPhone currently charging on the bedside table and opens her Facebook app, squints her eyes and hesitates before typing ‘Maggie Sawyer’ into the search bar.

She’s met with a few results, but there’s only one Maggie Sawyer in National City. 

The profile picture is of Maggie, wearing that same hooded leather jacket Alex remembers from Arnold’s, next to a smaller blonde woman. The blonde woman is strikingly beautiful. They’re standing in front of a Christmas tree. Close.

Alex keeps scrolling.

From: Blue Springs, Nebraska.  
Lives in: National City.  
Sous Chef at Le Bernardin.  
In a relationship with Rachel Mitchell.

Alex rubs her eyes, sits up quickly and reads again.

In a relationship with Rachel Mitchell.

She clicks on the profile of Rachel and is met with the same blonde woman in Maggie’s profile picture. The mystery Christmas tree lady.

Oh. Right.

Maggie dates women.

Oh.

———————————

“FUCK!” 

It’s 2.30pm. Alex was due at The Bowery two hours ago. The apartment is lit up with broad daylight and Kara’s long gone. Her blanket is folded into a neat square on the arm of the sofa.

Alex practically leaps out of bed, slips into a pair of jeans and pulls her phone out of the charger. She’s about to text Chef Scott a huge over exaggerated apology for her lateness when none other than Maggie Sawyer appears on the screen. Her Facebook page is still open from the previous night.

“You’re going down, Sawyer. Try me.”

——————————

It’s fair to say that Alex Danvers almost collapses into a heap when she bursts through the back door of The Bowery and sees Maggie Sawyer standing in the kitchen, leaning against a freezer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is short because I've been super busy but I just wanted to keep this story going. The next chapter will be longer, I promise, but for now, enjoy this.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading guys! My first full length fic is comin. I'll try to update as regularly as possible...as often as uni allows. Follow me on Twitter if you wanna let me know how you feel. @chyleighdnvrs. A huge thanks and shoutout to Maeva who's helping me develop this fic every step of the way. Follow Maeva on Twitter and AO3 @mssawyerdanvers.


End file.
